The Orange Ones
by sasherxcopy
Summary: She could feel whatever had been restrained behind that barricade entwining with her blood and coursing through her body. The metallic tinge of blood replaced with the sweetness of adoration.


**Disclaimer: Don't kill me Jo. Or the person who own Skittles. **

**Orange Skittles:**

Nymphadora Tonks sat in the parlor of Grimmauld Place, a red package in her hands. She had though she was alone up until that point, chomping on the chewy candies and picking out the orange ones. She never really understood why she didn't like them. I mean they tasted alright, she just didn't like them. She emptied the hand of which contained the orange morsels onto the coffee table and a tall man appeared in the doorway, his hair slightly tufted, as if he had ran his hand through it, and his palm splayed over the cover of a thick leather-bound book.

He stalled for a moment, as if not expecting anyone to be there, then carried on to the bookshelf, where he replaced the leather-bound it the notch from where it had been taken.

"Hello, Nymph-Tonks!" he said in a cordial voice, albeit pleading one, as he turned to look at her.

She eyed him suspiciously, as if he had meant to slip up. People loved taunting her with the use of her Christian name. "Wotcher, Remus."

Her tone echoed her thoughts and he raised an eyebrow, he was quite suspicious himself. "What are you doing?" He said and eyed the red package and orange spheres on the table.

"Skittles," she said. "Not the orange ones, though, I don't like them."

"And what, exactly, are skittles?" He asked, both his eyebrows high now, as if apprehensive that something called 'Skittles' would be worth eating, even the non-orange ones.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, rhetorically, because just before he could open his mouth enough to fit word through: "They're candy!"

"You forget, I was brought up in a fully magical family," He said, a smile plastered on his face due to the mock-offended look that she displayed. "But they look…delicious," The sarcasm he wished to avoid, lacing his tone.

"Well, you won't be getting any," She said as she stuck her tongue out at him and he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

"Not even the orange ones?"

"Not even the orange ones," she confirmed.

Remus tilted his head to the side as though considering something but turned and made for the door.

"Where are you going?" Tonks questioned as soon as he fully turned.

"Well, seeing as I'm done here, and your not going to give me those Skittles, I was going to go downstairs and have a chat with Sirius," He told her, as if it where obvious why he was leaving.

"Don't leave," She said, accidentally, in a tone that leaked emotion. She inwardly cursed herself for letting that slip. It was a sudden change from the teasing tone she had accomplished just seconds earlier.

"Only if I get the orange ones," He said, faux determination in his voice. She looked as if she was considering it concisely.

"Okay, but then you have to eat my orange Skittles whenever I ask," She said.

"Deal," Remus said without even thinking. She looked flabbergasted at his eagerness but the expression soon turned to one of indifference. He only agreed to eat the Skittles she didn't like anyway. It wasn't like her hopes had suddenly been realized. That he was asking her to marry him or have his kids.

That was a ludicrous idea. He couldn't possible have the kind of strong feelings she had for him. No way, no how. She repeated this like a silent mantra in her head. No he couldn't. No he couldn't. He had seated himself on the ottoman next to the chair was she was seated herself.

Then he looked up into her eyes and the light blue of his pupils reflected her own with such symmetry that she almost gasped. It was a little odd, looking into someone's eyes and seeing your own looking back at you, but it made her heart flutter and a barricade somewhere in her mind break.

He scooped up the Skittles from the table and tossed one into the air and caught it with his mouth. "Not half bad," He concluded. "But I don't see what you don't like about them to begin with."

She could feel whatever had been restrained behind that barricade entwining with her blood and coursing through her body. The metallic tinge of blood replaced with the sweetness of adoration. It heated her and she was almost sure she was blushing.

He continued to catch one after another in his mouth, more out of habit than anything.

**A/N I have a problem with just cutting stories off and I am dearly sorry, but sometimes I just have to stop. This was written out of pure whim because I was trying to explain to my friends why I don't like orange Skittles. Then my horribly obsessed mind automatically converted it to Harry Potter. Written to the entirety of the Royksopp compact disc. **


End file.
